Haunted
by MoonChild1993
Summary: When Daryl gets annoyed with his housemates, he decides to move out, taking the only other person he can stand, Carol, with him. He finds the perfect house and refuses to believe the rumors that it's haunted...
1. Chapter 1

Daryl huffed and buried his head under the pillows as he tried to drown out the sounds coming from Abraham and Rosita's room. He couldn't make out exactly what was going on, but he heard a lot of whispering and giggling, so he had a pretty good idea.

They'd been in Alexandria for two weeks, and he was already getting tired of his housemates. He currently shared a large, four-bedroom house with Abraham, Rosita, Eugene, and Carol.

If it wasn't Abraham and Rosita bothering him with their lovemaking, then it was Eugene, talking incessantly in that deadpan way of his, trying to talk all smart at him. It was annoying.

Carol was the only one that didn't bother him. Maybe it was because he'd been around her since the beginning, but she never got on his nerves like the others did.

The bed started to squeak in the next room, and Daryl had had enough. He banged a fist on the wall, making sure that both of them knew damn well that he could hear them, and he wasn't amused. Abraham replied by laughing loudly. The squeaking didn't stop.

"Good Lord," he muttered, getting out of the bed. So much for enjoying some peace and quiet until he had to get up. He dressed quickly and headed downstairs.

The smell of pancakes hit him as soon as he made it downstairs.

He found Carol in the kitchen. She had pancakes cooking in the skillet and plates ready on the counter. She looked up at him when he entered and smiled at him, handing him a plate stacked high.

He smiled back at her. She always gave him a little extra when the others weren't around. He loved that.

"Good morning. There's syrup and jam on the table."

"Mornin'," he replied, heading to the table. A bottle of maple syrup and strawberry jam sat on the table. He went for the syrup, dousing his pancakes in it until they were soggy.

"I don't think you put enough syrup on them," Carol teased, coming to the table with her own plate. She grabbed the jar of strawberry jam and scooped some onto her pancakes.

"I don't think I did either," he replied, pouring some more just for good measure. She rolled her eyes.

"You're going to get cavities if you keep that up."

They both laughed at that. None of them had exactly been practicing good dental hygiene anyway.

"It's a risk I'm willin' to take," he said, digging in. They were quiet for a moment while they ate.

"So, how'd you sleep?" Carol asked after awhile.

Daryl huffed.

"Slept just fine until two of our housemates decided to screw each other this morning."

She laughed. "Ah, so you heard them too, huh?"

"Hear 'em all the damn time," he grumbled.

Carol sighed. "Yeah, me too. It's nice, though, I guess. They deserve to be happy."

"Yeah, well, I ain't gotta hear it."

She laughed. "Yeah, it would be nice if they'd keep it down for the rest of us that aren't getting laid."

He nodded. It would be damn nice.

When he finished his pancakes, he thanked Carol for cooking, promised to see her later, and left to go do some recruiting with Aaron.

* * *

Later that evening, Daryl walked slowly back to his house, savoring the alone time. He was thankful many of the Alexandrians were afraid of him. That meant they didn't talk to him. He could walk from the gate to his house with no worries of having to socialize.

He'd just made it to the house when something made him stop. The evening sun shone on the blue house at the end of the street, the one that was normally hidden from view by the dark canopy of the trees.

Daryl kept going, headed toward the house.

It was an older home, more run down than the others, and partially hidden by a mini forest that surrounded it. No one lived there. It sat vacant at the end of the street.

Daryl had never given it much thought before, but now he wondered why no one had moved into it. The house looked fine to him, if not a little outdated.

There must be something wrong with the inside, he thought. He approached the house, stepping onto the large wrap around porch. The wooden floorboards groaned underneath his weight, as if they hadn't been stepped on in ages.

He tried the front doorknob; it was unlocked. He opened the door and stepped inside, expecting to find a home that was rotting away in disrepair.

What he found, though, looked like something out of a damn magazine. Despite a thick layer of dust covering everything, the place was magnificent. Hardwood floors, a large marble fireplace, stained glass windows. The first floor contained a living room, kitchen, dining room, half bath, and a study. The second floor contained three bedrooms, two full baths, and two full baths. A spiral staircase led to a third floor of sorts which contained a large library. There was also a balcony that looked out onto the street.

When he was done exploring, Daryl left the house and headed straight home, his mind made up. He was going to stay in that house.

* * *

He found Carol in her room. She was sitting in a rocking chair by the window, reading a book. She closed the book when he entered and smiled at him.

"Hey. How was recruiting?" she asked.

"Fine," he stood there awkwardly, chewing his thumbnail, "Can I talk to ya about something?"

Her eyebrows immediately furrowed in concern. She stood up.

"What is it, Daryl?"

"Calm down, it ain't nothing serious. I want to move out."

Those blue eyes widened, and he could see the confusion and panic on her face.

"Move out? Of Alexandria? Why? What happened?"

He shook his head.

"No, not out of Alexandria. Out of this damn house."

She seemed to calm down a little.

"Okay. Where would you go instead?"

He told her about the blue house.

"You know why no one lives in that house, right?"

"No," he replied.

She smiled, "Aaron says it's because it's haunted. Everyone that's moved in there moves out within a month. They claim to see things, feel things, hear things."

"What?"

Carol threw her hands up.

"Hey, I'm just telling you what I was told. I think if you want to move out, though, then you should. You should be happy."

Her voice faltered a little, and her eyes looked sad, despite the smile on her face.

"You mean to tell me people 'round here worried 'bout ghosts when there's dead people walkin' around eatin' the livin'?" he asked.

She laughed.

"Hey, if zombies are real, maybe ghosts are too."

He nodded. She had a point there.

"Screw that. I'm movin' in. And you're comin' with me."

Her eyes widened in shock.

"Don't give me that look. You know you want out. Come live with me."

Her expression changed several times before she finally looked up at him and smiled.

"Okay, let's do it."

He nodded once.

"Good. Let's go talk to Rick."

 **Author's Note: Hey, y'all! Okay, I know what some of you are thinking. You're thinking I need to be updating my other stories instead of starting new ones. Don't I know it! I've been meaning to update, but the idea for this one just wouldn't leave me alone. I feel like I had to get this one out before I could update anything else, but updates are coming soon, so don't fear!**

 **Thank you so much for taking the time to read my story! I would love to hear from you, so please leave a review! Also, if you enjoyed the story, please follow and favorite it! It would mean so much! Thanks again!**

 **As always, I apologize for any errors!**


	2. Chapter 2

"If you think this is the best decision, then I can't say no," Rick was saying. Daryl and Carol were sitting in his living room, along with Michonne, Carl, and Judith.

"It'll be fine. Got woods for huntin'. Can see anyone comin' a mile away on that balcony," Daryl replied.

"And you're not afraid of the ghosts?" Carl asked, smirking.

"Shut up," Daryl growled, but there was no venom in his voice.

They all laughed.

"So, what's the story behind that place anyway?" Michonne asked.

Carol spoke up. "From what Aaron told me, an entire family was murdered in there. The husband beat them all to death with a baseball bat. He never got caught."

Everyone sobered up a little after that, eyes all cast down to the ground, stunned.

"Wow," Michonne said, shaking her head.

"That's intense," Rick stated.

"Yeah," Carol said.

"Well, y'all have fun with that!" Rick said with a laugh. They all stood up and headed toward the door.

"Will y'all need help moving anything?"

"Nah," Daryl said with a shake of his head, "Ain't got shit to move. House already has furniture."

"Alright, then. We'll let y'all get to it."

They waved goodbye to Rick and headed down the street.

When Daryl noticed Carol lagging behind, he turned around.

"C'mon, woman. Time to move into our new house."

* * *

The sun was setting by the time they got to their new house, duffel bags full of their sheets and clothes in their hands.

"You ready?" Daryl asked.

"Carol smiled, nodded. "As I'll ever be."

They walked through the front door and set their things down. He gave her the grand tour of the first and second floors.

"I can't believe how beautiful this home is," Carol commented. They approached the third floor spiral staircase.

"Aren't we going up there?" She asked.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, "But first, I gotta do something."

She watched him as he pulled a clean rag from his back pocket and folded it. Then he started to approach her.

"Daryl Dixon, what the hell are you doin'?"

"I'm puttin' this over your eyes."

She sighed as he tied the rag around her eyes.

"How am I going to get up the stairs if I can't see?"

"I'll guide ya. Just relax."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and steered her forward.

"Step up."

She did as she was told. They went on like this for twenty-four more steps. She'd counted. Not once did she stumble thanks to Daryl's guidance.

"Alright, we're at the top now," he told her. He kept guiding her forward. Their footsteps were muffled now. They must have been walking on carpet or a rug.

"Just a few more steps," he said. Finally, they stopped. She could feel him standing in front of her now.

"Alright, take off the blind fold."

She quickly unwrapped the knot he'd tied, letting the rag fall to the floor. Then she gasped.

She was surrounded by books. Thousands of them, it seemed like, perched on dark wooden shelves. There was no wall space, only shelves filled with books. Two stained-glass windows let in the last rays of sunlight.

"Daryl…this is…wow."

That was all she could get out.

The room was amazing. She ran her hands lovingly over the books, briefly inspecting the titles. There were the classics, romances, young adult literature, books on art and tools and wedding planning. Children picture books. Cook books. It was like her own personal book store. God, did she miss book stores.

"Well, this is officially my favorite room. You probably won't be able to drag me out here. I'll be useless."

"Figured you'd like it," he said shyly.

She beamed at him.

"I love it."

They went back downstairs to find something to eat for dinner. Carol had packed several cans of soup, so she heated two of them up on the stove and served it with some bread.

They ate in silence mostly, except for a little bit of small talk. They mostly chatted about things they would need for the house or stuff that needed to be done. Nothing deep.

When they were finished, it was time for bed, and they both headed upstairs.

"Which room you takin'?" Daryl asked her when they'd made it up the stairs.

"I think I'll take the one by the staircase. That way I can be close to the books," she said with a laugh.

"Sounds good. I'll take this one."

He nodded to the master bedroom. It was closest to the top of the stairs, and it had a door that led out to the balcony. It made the most sense for him to have that room.

"Okay. Well, I guess this is good night."

Daryl nodded, chewed his thumb nail.

"See ya in the morning. Good night."

"Good night, Daryl. Thanks for asking me to move in with you."

His face turned red. He nodded, gave her a half smile, then retreated into his room, closing the door behind him.

Carol felt suddenly nervous then. She was so used to being surrounded by a lot of people; now the house seemed much too large and intimidating. Their bedrooms were separated by another room in the middle, and that bothered her now, made her feel like he was miles away.

She shook her head, told herself to get it together. She was a fighter, a survivor. She could take care of herself. Still, she couldn't shake that anxiety she was feeling.

She walked down to her room. Just as she opened her door, she heard Daryl's open. She looked back. He was poking his head out the door, looking at her.

"I'll sleep with the door open tonight in case ya need me," he said softly.

Immediately, Carol felt some of that anxiety float away.

"Thanks, Daryl. I'll do the same."

* * *

Later, in the middle of the night, Carol woke abruptly. She sat up, heart racing, a thin layer of sweat covering her body.

She sat still for a few moments, trying to calm herself down. She must have had a nightmare and didn't remember it. It wasn't uncommon for her to have nightmares these days.

Then she heard a noise, and her body broke out into a sweat all over again, heart beat picked up.

Scratching. Coming from the library, maybe. Or the staircase. It was close, but she could tell it wasn't coming from her own room or down the hall.

What the hell was that? She was ashamed to admit her first instinct was to run to Daryl, wake him up, and ask him to go check it out. He'd said he'd leave his door open in case she needed him...

She forced herself to calm down. It was probably rodents running around up there, although she'd seen no signs of rodents up there earlier. But she had been distracted by the books.

She made herself lay back down, get comfortable again. The scratching continued for awhile, then finally went away.

She told her worried mind that it would be morning soon, and then she could tell Daryl about it, maybe get him to find some traps for their little guests. She held onto that thought, and eventually drifted back off to sleep.

 **Author's Note: Hey, y'all! I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. Now we're getting into some spooky stuff! Did anyone catch my little reference to a certain TWD villain? I didn't even mean for that to happen!**

 **Thank you so much to those of you that read, followed, and favorited. It makes me happy! And to my three reviewers, y'all are fantastic people! Please keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing! Ignore any errors. Thanks!**


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl woke up just as the sun was rising. He laid in the bed for several minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet.

When his bladder started to bother him, he finally got up, went to the bathroom, and then quickly dressed in the clothes he'd worn yesterday.

He made sure to keep quiet as he descended the stairs. Carol usually slept later than him, so he didn't want to wake her.

He'd been quiet for no reason, though. He found her already awake in the living room, sitting on the couch reading a book.

"Good morning," she said, closing the book and turning to face him. He sat down in the recliner.

"Mornin'. Why you up so early?"

She smiled. "Am I not allowed to be up this early?"

He snorted. "No, just thought it was odd. You usually sleep later than me."

She nodded. "I know, I was teasing. Truth is, I"ve hardly slept. I think we have a problem."

Daryl tensed up. So far, he liked having Carol live with him. He had a feeling, though, that she was about to tell him she wanted to move out.

"You movin' out?" he asked, never one to beat around the bush.

Her blue eyes got wide.

"What? No. What on Earth gave you that idea?"

He shrugged. "So, what's the problem?"

Now she was looking at him like he was crazy. She shook her head.

"Last night, before I drifted off, I kept hearing these scratching noises. Sounded like it was coming from the library, maybe? I'm not sure. Anyway, I think we might have mice."

Daryl sighed. "Alright. I'll see 'bout getting some traps, maybe some poison too."

She smiled. "Thanks, I'd appreciate it. I think the little bastards kept me up last night. What are your plans for today?"

"Gonna do some scoutin' with Aaron. You?"

She shrugged.

"I don't have any plans that I know of. I'll probably try to do some cleaning around here, maybe go get us some decent groceries from the pantry."

"Sounds good."

After they had breakfast, strawberry muffins with strawberry jam, Daryl headed out to meet Aaron. Carol followed him, parting ways with him until they made it to the pantry. She sent him off with a wave and told him to be safe.

When he was out of her sight, she raided the pantry, looking for items they would need in their new home. She made sure to check everything off, so no one would think anything had been stolen.

After she was done, she started to make her rounds throughout the neighborhood. For the safety of her group, she had reverted back to the meek, timid housewife she used to be. She didn't want any of the Alexandrians suspecting she was a cold-hearted killer. She still wanted to keep some tricks up her sleeve.

So, she dressed in her stuffy old woman clothes and walked around the neighborhood, checking on people, waving at children, sharing recipes with some of the women. All in a day's work.

At one point, she ran into Michonne and Maggie.

"So, how's the haunted house?" Michonne asked, a smirk on her face.

Carol rolled her eyes. "It's fine. More than fine, actually. It's a beautiful place."

"We're glad. We miss having you around the house," Maggie said.

Carol smiled. "I miss you all too."

"Then why did you move in with Daryl?" Michonne asked. Damn her, that smirk was still on her face.

"He asked me to. Rick thought it would be best if there were two of us in that house instead of one. Just to be sure."

Michonne and Maggie shared a look.

"That the only reason?" Michonne pressed.

Carol gave her a look.

"What are you getting at, Michonne? I didn't really like the idea of him being by himself either. So, when he asked, I said yes."

"C'mon, Carol. Everyone sees how you two are with each other. I think you can admit that you have feelings for him."

Carol was silent a moment. She could feel her cheeks turning red. Did she? Did she have feelings for Daryl?

No, she didn't, she decided. He was her best friend, her rock, her savior. That was it, though. They joked around and even flirted sometimes, but nothing more.

"I do not have feelings for Daryl. We're best friends. End of story."

Michonne rolled her eyes. Maggie smirked.

"Sure took her a long time to reply…" Maggie said.

Carol just laughed and waved.

"And on that note, ladies, I'm leaving. I have a new house to clean."

She could hear their laughter behind her as she retreated back to her house.

* * *

Daryl came back from scouting earlier than he normally would have. Storm clouds were rolling in, the first they'd seen in a while.

When he got home, Carol was already starting on dinner. He noticed the house had a clean smell to it. It smelled like bleach and lemons.

"Hey!" She greeted him.

He set down his crossbow in the walkway and headed over to one of the stools surrounding the kitchen island. Carol was standing on the other side of it, chopping potatoes.

"Hey. Whatcha cookin'?"

"Potato soup. That okay for tonight?"

He chewed a fingernail. "Mmmhmm."

"Great. How was scouting?"

"Boring. How was cleaning?"

"Boring. Would've been better if I'd had some music to listen to."

"I bet."

"You find any traps for our houseguests?"

He retreated to the foyer and came back with a Walgreen's sack full of traps and poison.

"I'll go set them up."

Daryl made his way up to the third floor. The sky was getting darker, and he could hear low rumbles of thunder in the distance. The storm was getting closer.

The library was pitch black. He searched for several minutes in the darkness, trying to feel for the light switch on the wall with his hand. The light was brighter than he expecting, forcing him to blink several times. Now he was seeing strange shapes.

When his vision cleared, he began to look for signs of vermin. As far as he could tell, there was nothing. No holes, no shredded paper, no droppings. Maybe Carol had been hearing things.

Still, he set out the mouse traps and the poison.

He had just set up a trap to go by the door when the light suddenly went out.

"Damnit," he cursed.

Now he had to cross the room and find the light switch. That was going to be hard to do with no light to see by.

He made his way slowly, feeling along the wall, praying to find a light switch or at least the doorknob. He must have closed it.

A loud thump sounded in the room. He jumped. Logically, he knew there was no one in the room with him, but it still freaked him out that he couldn't see.

Finally, he found the doorknob. He opened quickly, letting the hall light flood in. It wasn't great, but it was better than total darkness.

Now he could see what made the noise. A book had fallen off one of the shelves.

He picked it up. _The Complete Tales of Edgar Allan Poe_.

He smirked. He didn't know much about Poe; he thought he vaguely remembered covering him in one of his high school English classes before he dropped out, but he couldn't be sure. He did know that he wrote some creepy ass shit. How ironic that an Edgar Allan Poe book would just suddenly fall from the bookcase.

His eyes roamed around; he half expected one of those alleged ghosts to come flying through a wall at him. Of course, that didn't happen. Nothing happened.

Carol must have gotten that book off the shelf and didn't place it back properly. Damn woman. He slid the book back into its slot and retreated downstairs, stomach growling for potato soup.

 **Author's Note: Hey! Alright, y'all, I'm just going to go ahead and say it: I don't care for this chapter. I don't feel like it's my best work. However, I've been having some writer's block lately with all my stories, and I was tired of not updating, so this is what I came up with. I hope y'all at least enjoyed it a little. I promise to try to do better next time. Until then, leave me a review and let me know your thoughts! Thanks!**


	4. Chapter 4

They ate their soup in silence, except for the occasional slurping. The rain fell hard outside, accompanied by the sounds of thunder and flashes of lightening.

Carol found herself looking at Daryl more than she usually did, sneaking glances at him whenever she took a bite of soup. Thanks to Maggie and Michonne, she'd been thinking about him all day.

She couldn't help but notice how attractive he was. Definitely the best looking man in their group. Floppy hair, tanned skin, bulging arm muscles…yeah, he was good looking. And those eyes…

"What?" Daryl barked, making her jump.

"What yourself?" she snapped back.

"What do you keep looking at? I got soup on my face?" he brushed a hand down his face.

She sighed. "No, Daryl. I didn't mean to stare."

"What's your deal?" he pressed.

She sighed again. Then she gave him her best fake smile.

"It's nothing. Really. I ran into Maggie and Michonne earlier, and I was thinking about some things they said to me."

He just stared at her, waited for her to continue.

"They think we have something going on with each other."

Daryl coughed and lowered his head like he was going to take another bite of soup, trying to hide the blush that Carol could clearly see on his cheeks.

"Really?" he asked.

"Yeah. They were asking about it. Don't worry, though, I told them I was being perfectly chaste with you."

This earned her an eye roll and a scoff.

"Whatever, woman. I'm surprised you ain't jumped me already," he said, standing up and taking his bowl to the sink.

"Yeah, you wish," she retorted. She followed him to the sink.

She didn't miss the sideways look he gave her or the blush on his cheeks.

While Daryl took his shower, Carol got herself ready for bed. She changed into a pair of plaid pajama shorts and a black tank top. It wasn't the most practical outfit to wear in their current situation, but she was tired of always having to sleep her stuffy old woman clothes. Plus, it was hotter upstairs.

She ran a small comb through her hair, working out a few knots. Sometimes she couldn't believe how much her hair had grown out.

The water stopped running. She listened as Daryl rustled around in there for a few minutes before finally coming out. Her door was closed, but she still heard him say, "Night, Carol." Then his own door closed.

When she came back from the bathroom, she settled into the bed with another book from upstairs. She'd finished _Alice in Wonderland_ , one of Sophia's favorites, that morning. Tonight, she'd decided on _Frankenstein_. She thought it was fitting for a night like tonight.

The storm continued to rage, and she read until her vision became blurry, forcing her to stop. Not once had she heard any scratching noises. Good. Maybe all the mice had been captured or were off dying somewhere from the poison.

She was drifting off to sleep when she heard a creaking noise, like one of the doors opening on squeaky hinges.

The sound freaked her out, but she willed herself to calm down, chalking the nerves up to being in such an empty house. It was an old house; the wind could have forced the door to open on its own. Or it could be Daryl going back to the bathroom.

The door shut. She sighed. It had been Daryl. She waited to hear his footsteps pass by her door, but she never heard them. Maybe he was barefoot, although she'd never seen the man barefoot.

Then she heard him snore.

Carol bolted up in bed, a chill running down her spine. There was no way he'd just gone to the bathroom.

What the hell was going on?

It wasn't ghosts. It couldn't be ghosts. That was ridiculous.

The door creaked open again. This time she got up and swung her own door opened. She peeked out into the hall. Sure enough, the bathroom door was wide open. Then it closed. By itself. Right in front of her eyes.

She squealed and raced to Daryl's room. His door was already opened, and she shut it behind her when she ran inside.

She could just barely make out his silhouette in the darkness. He was lying on his side, snoring softly.

She walked right up to him and starting shoving his shoulder.

"Daryl. Daryl, wake up."

He flinched and bolted up, nearly knocking her onto the hardwood floor.

"What is it?" he asked, reaching behind him for his crossbow. If she hadn't been so freaked out, she would have been rolling her eyes. Of course his crossbow got the other half of the bed.

"Put that down. Look, don't judge me, but I need to sleep in her with you tonight," she whispered, walking around to the opposite side of the bed. She lifted up the covers and slid inside, making sure to leave him plenty of room.

"What the hell for?" he asked.

"The bathroom door keeps opening and closing."

"What? Doors do that. Old house, remember?"

"Well, that might be the case, but it freaked me out. Can I just stay in here tonight? I promise to stay in this one spot and not hog the covers."

She couldn't see him, but she had a feeling he was probably rolling his eyes at her.

"Yeah, you best stay in that one spot," he grumbled and turned back over on his side, facing away from her.

She instantly felt better being here with Daryl. He just had a way of calming her down, even when he wasn't even doing anything. She hated being such a wimp, but this house was starting to wig her out.

She rolled onto her side, facing his back.

"So, are we going to talk about why you share your bed with a crossbow?" she whispered.

"Shut up and go to sleep," he whispered back.

 **Author's Note: Hey, y'all! Well, not much happened in this chapter, but I think it's my favorite so far! I just love how cute it is and how cute they are. It just makes my heart happy! Please review and let me know what you thought! Thanks!**

 **Thank you to all of you who read this story and give me such sweet reviews! I love it!**


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